


Pool Days

by viroqu



Category: Divinity: Original Sin (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Middle School, F/F, Other characters make a guest apperance, as in "middle school teachers", i made this in one go. YOU are the beta readers, ifan/beast implied, wlw/mlm solidarity reign supreme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22606645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viroqu/pseuds/viroqu
Summary: “It does stink,” Mr. Miles says as Ms. Kaleran wins, again, with an advantage of almost an entire lap against Mr. Prince, “that there’s no point in running bets.”Lohse hums in agreement, her gaze transfixed in the scene in front of her. Mr. Miles smirks, but doesn’t say anything.“What did she used to do before teachin’?” asks Mr. Miles, slyly.-It's a hot almost-summer day in Rivellon Middle School. Lohse and Marcus make a bet by the pool involving their fellow co-workers.
Relationships: Lohse & Beast, Lohse/Sebille (Divinity: Original Sin)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	Pool Days

It’s the last week of May and the students of Rivellon Middle School can almost taste the end of class and the beginning of summer break.

Meanwhile —to relieve the heat and the anxious energy of the student body both— Principal Malady decided to officially inaugurate pool season, not only to gym class, but also leaving it open for all the students who wanted to use it after school so as long as there was one of the assigned teachers to keep watch on them.

This was the third continuous "day" of pool day, and while the school wouldn’t pay extra hours to most teachers for lifeguarding the kids, the upside was that school faculty could swim too if they did so after the bell had officially rung.

And since her small apartment turned itself into an oven as the day went on, long after even the kids were released from their daily prison, this suited Lohse just fine.

Yet the carefree atmosphere of this particularly sunny day had been temporarily interrupted for an impromptu, once-in-a-lifetime event: a Teacher Swimming Competition. Where the best, alpha teacher would assert their natural dominance and cement themselves as the unofficial authority in the school’s collective unconscious.

But that drive to prove themselves against co-workers was not present in either Ms. Singer or Mr. Miles —dubbed the “chillest teachers in school” by the kids— who taught music and art respectively.

  
(Which in Lohse’s mind is not really that hard. If you were an art or music teacher —literally the chill-of-the-chill in terms of school subjects— and kids still found you a drag, something was deeply wrong with you).

Despite a race in the cool water not sounding that bad considering all the heat of the harsh sun above, both teachers had opted out of this particular gauntlet. Preferring instead —from afar and with their feet comfortably submerged— to watch the one-sided destruction that Ms. Sebille Kaleran, the Olympic medalist gym teacher, would no-doubt wreck in the rest of the competition.

“It does stink,” Mr. Miles says as Ms. Kaleran wins, again, with an advantage of almost an entire lap against Mr. Prince, “that there’s no point in running bets.”

Lohse hums in agreement, her gaze transfixed in the scene in front of her. Mr. Miles smirks, but doesn’t say anything.

“What did she used to do before teachin’?” asks Mr. Miles, slyly.

“Olympic runner, I think.”

Silence.

“She sure is something, isn’t she?”

“Something? Marcus, she has the face of Lucy Liu and the muscles of Ryan Gosling. She’s drop dead gorgeous!”

They both stop talking for a moment as they look at Ms. Kaleran, who has just outsped the boy’s gym teacher, Coach Gareth. Lohse eyes closely follow the precise motion her powerful legs do when she performs dolphin kicks.

“I bet her thighs could crush a watermelon,” adds Lohse.

“So yeh been staring at her thighs, eh, lassie?”

“I’ve caught some glimpses… between looking at her defined abs, her luscious hair and her toned arms. Yes, I suppose I have sneaked one or two peeks at her thighs.”

“Her face doesn’t hurt to look at that much either, huh?”

“I thought ‘Lucy Liu’s face’ was descriptive enough and left it like that.”

“And have you talked to her?”

Lohse laughs. “Who do you take me for? Of course, I haven’t.”

“And why not?”

“Why hurry? I don’t even know if she’s into… let’s go with _sapphic activities_.”

“C’mon Lohse,” Marcus smirks, “she was a female athlete. Y’know the rates of lesbianism in professional sports?”

“No, not really. Do you?”

“Nope,” answers the man with a mischievous grin. “But I figure it’s a _lot_.”

Lohse laughs and then gives him a friendly punch in the shoulder.

“Now you’re just stereotyping, old man!”

“It’s our own people so it’s fine,” and with a wave of his hand, he dismisses the statement.

They watch as Mr. Mortle, who had previously claimed to have found the most scientifically efficient technique for swimming (by the looks of it, a mix between butterfly and dog paddle), has not only being well outdone by Coach Sebille, but on her way back to the start, she proceeded to grab him by the ankle and drag him underwater all the way across the pool. Her speed practically unaffected, even.

“That’s our girl!” Marcus managed to say between laughs.

“So, to wrap up. You think I should shoot my shot?” Lohse asks, and for the first time in a while, she lifts her eyes from whatever is happening inside the pool to look at Marcus.

Even with her voice still with maintaining the playful tone, Marcus can tell she’s asking for his honest opinion.

“Was that not what you were doin’ with all that awkward ogling you’ve been getting on all day?”

  
  
“Hmm,” answered Lohse with the face a kid gives when they have been found doing something naughty but also, pretty funny, “You think she noticed?”

“You, my dear Lohse, have more talents than most folks, but to go unnoticed is not one of them. At all.”

Lohse snorts and shoves him from the sides. “Well, you’re bald, so.”

Marcus didn’t think that comment dignified an answer.

“Oy, shorty. What’s happening over there?”

Marcus looked up and narrowed his eyes, trying to make out whatever had grabbed Lohse attention.

“I think Ms. Kaleran is talking with...” and he held his hand above his forehead horizontally, to block out the excess of light, “...with I-Ifan,” Marcus stammered.

Indeed, Ms. Kaleran had stood up and was now talking amicably with the school janitor, Mr. ben-Mezd. Ifan said something that made the woman laugh out loud; her smile, so transient, was gone just as fast as it appeared, and Lohse found herself missing it already.

Both Ifan’s and Coach Sebille’s faces turned to them. Marcus gave a small whimper, and for a moment, the eyes of both women met.

Lohse tried to play it cool, the rock star persona taking over, and she offered one of her famous easy smiles to the statuesque woman.

Ms. Kaleran gave her a small one of her own. Success.

It was the turn of the athlete to make a (frustratingly inaudible) comment, one that made Ifan laugh in turn. 

“I wonder what they’re talking about,” said the redhead wistfully to her friend.

Before Marcus had time to get back of his own reverie to answer, Mr. ben-Mezd, in a quick motion, took of his own shoes and had begun to remove his shirt.

“Oh? Is Ifan competing too?” said Lohse, her voice dripping with a teasing tone. “Isn’t that fun Mr. Miles?”

Marcus opened his mouth to say the undoubtedly cutting remark that he had prepared for her but by the time Ifan had removed his tank top, the mouth just remained silently open for other reasons entirely.

“I had heard he was a combat vet of some sorts but _wow_ that training pays _off_ , don’t you think? Tattoos, hairy, muscled chest and those biceps the size of a football? Damn, Marcus. If you don’t make your move soon, I might make my own, as a consolation prize.”

“You’re already waving the white flag on Ms. Wonder Woman over there?” said Marcus, just a _wee bit_ annoyed.

“Momma didn’t raise no quitter mind you. It’s just that, it’s good to have a plan B, don’t you think?” Lohse answered mockingly.

Marcus released an exasperated “hmph!” and said nothing else. Ifan was doing some quick warm-ups, he stretched his big arms to one side, held, and then turned to the other.

“Have you talked to him about the weird sensations he gives you on your tummy?”

“No,” said Marcus in a voice that tried to imply that he very much didn’t know what the other person was going with this topic, thank you very much.

“Oh, where I've heard that one before?”

“You made your point already you demonic woman! ‘Sides, I _have_ talked to him. Sometimes. A lil’. After class.”

His eyes never moved from the, ah, striking figure that was Mr. ben-Mezd in only his swimming trunks as he jumped inside the pool.

Coach Sebille, for her own part, rested in the shallow part of the pool. Recovering energies after her many continuous matches.

“So, when’s the wedding?”

“Look Lohse I don’t even know if he’s… a _friend of Dorothy_ ,” Lohse laughs at him for that, Marcus supposes he had that one coming. “Chances are he’s not and I just scare him away! And dating notwithstanding he’s a very cool dude, wouldn’t want to ruin that with all this _being myself_ , y’know?”

“Aww,” said Lohse syrupy and dramatically, “but _yourself_ is also a “very cool dude” too! I like him very much in fact.”

Marcus hoped the sun could excuse the flush he felt going up his face.

“That aside,” she continued, “do you know the rate of secret, infiltrated _home-of-sexuals_ inside the army?”

“No, I don’t,” said Marcus incredulous. “Do you?”

“Nope!” Replied a much too amused Lohse. “But all the contact sports in their training are a _tad bit_ homoerotic don’t you think? Some of the recruits must be enjoying them a lot more than they should.”

“Now you’re just going all YMCA on me!”

“Oh, c’mon ‘ _Beast_ ’ you were in _biker gang_! You were a leather clad, tattooed, hair-on-the-chest _biker_ , you half-pint hypocrite!” Said Lohse, punctuating each statement with a poke in his arm. “Maybe Ifan is _also_ a gay cliché! Relax, flirt with the hot janitor, live a little.”

Marcus grumbled something unintelligible under his breath but pushed the point no further. If Lohse had had a colorful drink in her hand with an equally colorful twisty straw, she figured it would have been the perfect time for noisily sipping it.

Done with their own chit-chat, both Ifan and Coach Sebille had already set themselves for the start of the race.

“Bet yeh Ifan beats her. Dark horse and all,” said Marcus quietly, reverence and tension filled the air around the pool.

“I knew _love_ was blind, but I didn’t know that it literally _made you_ blind,” answered Lohse in a voice just tiny bit louder than a whisper. “Mr. ben-Mezd training is for survival, not sportsmanship. Ms. Kaleran will have him for dinner before Old Dog over there knew what hit him.”

Then she added, “Trust me, between performers we get each other.”

Marcus observed that her eyes were focused, few times he had seen the relaxed young woman with that analytic expression over her face.

“All performance, little substance,” Marcus retorted. “If you’re so confident, bet.”

Lohse’s mouth grew itself into a smug smirk, “And what are we betting then?”

“The loser,” said Beast, in a tone matching her over-confident condescension, “has to actually ask out his or her hunk of choosing.”

“May the best beefcake win, then,” answered Lohse.

Coach Gareth yelled “Start!” and both swimmers turned into underwater blurs. Their speed almost equal, Ms. Kaleran seemingly had the advantage by virtue of her long, long arms.

In an impressive display of athleticism, the competitors cut the distance of the Olympian pool in an almost shark-like speed. Neither of them was willing to go easy on the other. Even the students stopped their own games to give their attention, the most sought-after commodity for a schoolteacher, to the contenders of the race.

They both arrived at almost the same time, but Coach Sebille, whether because she had raced many times by now or for some other reason, failed to impulse herself optimally at the end of the lap. Ifan and her were now evenly matched.

Neither Marcus nor Lohse commented anything, too enthralled to even think something to say.

They swam back with even fiercer impetus than on their way in. Ifan used his raw strength to propel himself forwards, making for an intimidating show. But Lohse was confident in her choice, she knew that Coach Sebille not only had the pure physicality of the man but also the optimized technique of the gymnast. Watching her move was a lesson in elegance, every movement precise, yet polished. Against Mr. ben-Mezd wild splashing noises, the woman’s fluid motions sounded like the unified song of a waterfall. She cut through the water like an arrow, piercing through with sheer and sharp velocity but without losing her center: Ms. Kaleran only moved exactly where she wanted to.

Motion turned beauty, turned artform.

The question for her then wasn’t who had the best chance of winning, but instead, would the Olympic pool be long enough to truly be faithful, not to chance nor to human exhaustion, but to the superior form?

The distance between the goal and the swimmers grew shorter and shorter by the second, until a few feet remained between each other. Lohse’s was not mistaken, for as if to prove not only her finesse but her power, Coach Sebille burst through, harmonizing her trained legs with the potentiality dormant inside the human muscles, finally winning the race.

The cheers and shouts from the teachers and students felt much louder in Lohse’s ears than the small gathering of people inside the outdoor pool probably could make, but she found herself on her feet, clapping and hopping with joy at the results.

“ _Oh yeah, ah-ha, oh yeah,_ ” she said in singsong. “We did it, _uh-huh_ , we did it. _Oh yeah!_ ”

“Shut up,” says a resigned, but not particularly worried, Marcus. “You didn’t even do anything!”

“Of course, I did,” answered Lohse “I used my mind powers to give her that last boost you know? Teamwork.”

“Yeah, yeah. Sit down,” barked Marcus, “you’re embarassin’ me.”

Lohse plopped herself back at the edge of the pool, satisfied with her little fanfare. She closed her eyes and turned her face up and basked, eyes-closed, with the sun’s light. She felt strangely overjoyed, as if it had been her that won the informal competition or as if the sun had woken up that morning and risen only for her.

“You seem happy,” said a feminine voice from inside of the water. “I assume you enjoyed the show?”

Lohse opened her eyes to find Ms. Kaleran leisurely swimming towards where Marcus and she were sitting.

“Congratulations Ms. Kaleran,” Lohse greeted the upcoming swimmer. “I almost feel bad for those men wounded pride. Almost. But I don’t,” she said, “I just won a bet after all.” And she looked at Marcus with a big grin on her face, one who the smaller man ignored completely.

Ms. Kaleran answered with a deep chuckle, “Sebille, please. And what a coincidence, I just won a bet of my own, too.”

“Oh,” replied Lohse, giddy. “Uhm, bet something interesting?”

“You could say that,” Sebille said, brushing a long lock of hair back, towards her otherwise impeccable ponytail. “But even without the incentive, I couldn’t lose. Not when there’s such a pretty lady watching, Ms…?”

“Oh,” Lohse laughs, delighted, “Singer. Lohse Singer. The music teacher. But please call me Lohse,” then quickly added. “And thank you, but I’m not _pretty_.”

Mr. Miles gives her an unimpressed dirty eye, “Yes, you are.”

“Ok, yes I am,” Lohse answers not an ounce less delighted. “But guys do like a bit of coyness in their girls.”

“I don’t know,” quipped Ms. Kal— Sebille, with an enigmatic look that made Lohse’s tummy feel weird. Drops of water hung unto her long dark lashes. “I think confidence suits you very, very nicely.”

“Oh!” exclaimed Lohse, “I’ll, um, have to keep that in mind then, won’t I?”

Mr. Miles exhaled disgruntled.

“You do that,” said Sebille with a small, feline smile. “Listen, I still have to keep a look on the kids for a little while. Catch you later?”

“Sure!” exclaimed Lohse, in what she hoped hadn’t sounded as _eager_ as outside of her mouth as she felt it did. “See you tomorrow?”

She nodded slowly, a semblance of a smile in her lips, as she submerged back in the water. Her graceful silhouette blurring itself under the quick motions of her long, bare legs.

A mermaid, thought Lohse.

For a good moment, the sound of the kids splashing around and laughing filled the air.

“That was utterly _shameless_ ,” muttered Mr. Miles.

“Oh, so I didn’t imagine that? That really just happened?”

“Geez, lassie. You two were making _me_ feel like I was interruptin’ something. And I was here _first_.”

Lohse giggles, it’s melodious and light, like a bird’s trill.

“Relax, Marcus,” she says mockingly, “I’m sure Mr. ben-Mezd will have no problem in taking my turn ‘baywatching’ if I asked politely.”

He replies to her shit-eating grin with a splash of water worthy of his big arms and hands. Lohse yells at the temperature difference between her sunbathed skin and the chilly wave Marcus just threw at her, but with her curly hair now wet and flat, Lohse figures out she has little dignity to lose now.

“This is _war_ , little man.”

In the distance, the children watch amused as their music teacher, in a surprising display of strength, lifts their heavyset art teacher in her arms and throw both him and herself headfirst into the swimming pool.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everybody!
> 
> The AU that nobody asked but I brought anyway. I always found very fun that unlike most RPGs, DOS2 cast are people well into their adult years, I think that's something that's worth translating when doing AUs.
> 
> This started as a one-shot but, while making this, I got a LOT of ideas for developing this particular AU in interesting ways. So we'll see how it goes. I'm interested in doing at least, a Side B of this fic, focusing in what was the bet that Sebille and Ifan made. Maybe give the boys their own happy ending.
> 
> *Remember when I said that I didn't have a particular ship with the origin characters? I lied. SEBILLOHSE GANG RISE UP.  
> *Beast is the most underdeveloped origin character, which is sad because he's so sweet. I hope I can do him some justice. As I'm not a native speaker, I am terrified of his accent.  
> *I used the fake last names that the characters used in-game for the ones that don't have any. See here: https://bledenmarks.tumblr.com/post/178283773664/i-dont-know-whats-funnier-the-fact-that-fane  
> *For the purpose of this AU, I'm applying my own headcanons here: Sebille's a lesbian, Beast's gay, Lohse's bisexual and so is Ifan. Also Sebille is asian, sue me.


End file.
